And His Lovely Wife Connie Schultz

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And His Lovely Wife  by  Connie Schultz

And His Lovely Wife by Connie Schultz
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oneTrash TalkTwo weeks after Sherrod decided to run for the Senate, I was hanging out at home with our dog, Gracie, when a white van pulled up in front of our house and slowed to a stop next to the bags of garbage piled at the end of our driveway.MoreoneTrash TalkTwo weeks after Sherrod decided to run for the Senate, I was hanging out at home with our dog, Gracie, when a white van pulled up in front of our house and slowed to a stop next to the bags of garbage piled at the end of our driveway.It was trash day, and we were so new to this neighborhood that for a moment I thought maybe wed moved to a place where they use vans instead of garbage trucks to pick up the trash.

What did I know about the genteel far west side of Cleveland? I was fresh from two decades on the gritty east side, where no two homes looked alike and trash day meant dodging redesigned golf carts that zipped into the driveway and scooped up everything in sight faster than you could scream, Wait, no, not the lawn furniture!This new neighborhood was way more sedate than that, if you didnt count the roar of Weedwackers, leaf blowers, and ride em lawn mowers.

Still, everything sure looked calm on our sapling-lined street. Everything matched, too, which is why for weeks Sherrod and I kept pulling into the wrong driveways when we came home from work. It felt like America as you might imagine it if nobody but the Pilgrims had been allowed to migrate.My radar, though, kicked in when the two men in the van jumped out and I noticed that they were wearing suits.

I dont mean jumpsuits. Im talking dress pants, suit coats, and ties. And each of them had just grabbed two bags of our garbage.Uh-oh, Gracie, I said to our aging, half-deaf, nearly blind pug. I think weve got a problem.Gracie had followed me from her bed under my desk to the CD player four steps away because she can never get enough of me, which really matters sometimes, like when youve just realized that two men in suits are trying to steal your trash and you suddenly feel very vulnerable, and very much alone.The only reason I noticed them at all was that I was leaning over my CD player in front of the window to replay one of my favorite Bonnie Raitt songs, Something to Talk About.

Normally, I wouldnt feel the need to name the artist or the song, but if it werent for Bonnie Raitt I wouldnt have been in front of the window. Even now, I feel a surge of gratitude toward Bonnie just thinking of how she helped me catch in the act two men in suits trying to steal our trash.Im repeating myself, I know, what with the men and the suits and the trash and all, but really, the first time you see something like that out your front window and not in a movie theater you feel the need to say it a few times to let it sink in.Gracie, I yelled, those two men in suits are trying to steal our trash!

I ran to the front door and threw it open.Even with Gracies considerable disabilities, she could grasp the seriousness of the situation, probably because I started screaming, and Ive been told, sometimes not so nicely, that I have a voice that carries.Hey! Hey! Drop that trash! Drop that trash!On cue, Gracie started barking so hard only one of her paws was touching the ground. That got their attention. The men in suits took one look at me and the beast, dropped the bags, ran to the white van, and tore off.You̵



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